


The Mountain Giant

by infinite_regress



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Confessions, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Kissing, Legends, Romance, here be giants, stories, the doctor is a dork, whouffaldi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 14:26:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12344475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinite_regress/pseuds/infinite_regress
Summary: Worlds are made of stories. The Doctor tells Clara an ancient and tragic tale, but she can't help wondering if he's actually talking about mountain giants at all.





	The Mountain Giant

The sky was like a cloth, woven from red and gold, with broad sweeps of amber near the horrizon, and then layers of crimson threaded between dark rivulets of cloud sweeping up over the distant mountains.

Clara perched right on the very threshold of the TARDIS, her legs dangling over the edge, as the time ship hovvered a few hundred feet above the brilliant yellow desert sand, providing a superlative view of the mountains and sky.

“It's like the world's on fire,” Clara told the Doctor as he slipped easily beside her in the small doorway. 

His shoulder brushed hers, bringing a familiar warmth, with the edge of something else. Something unspoken and perhaps unspeakable. A longing neither could give voice to, that they danced around, edged towards and then backed away from the feeling. She heard the rhythm of his breath, a soft, regular sound, ordinary, in and out, just like her, but at the same time bringing into sharp relief that her life was as painfully short as his was endless, a mere speck against a mountain.

A shoal of glow-flies flitted in front of them, sparking the darkening air with flecks of gold. 

“It’s beautiful here,” Clara said, resting her weight against his shoulder. At moments like this she wished he would put an arm around her, cement their togetherness with a touch, but she knew he would not. That he no longer shied away from her, and accepted this closeness, well, that was enough. At least that’s what she told herself tonight. “The colours in the sky. They’re breath-taking.”

“The Minonians have a legend, about the colours in the sky and the mountains.” He pointed at the two most distant peaks, one, the largest in the whole range, with a snow-capped tip, stood adjacent to a smaller mountain, already in darkness as the suns dipped beyond her higher friend.   
Clara turned her head slightly as he spoke, his soft accent weaving magic through the air as he went on. “A mountain giant, a great beast of a man, ancient and terrible, wandered the mountains night and day, adventuring from the deserts to the peaks, to the wild ocean, and back again. Now he had a friend, from the lowlands, and she would travel with him sometimes. And when she did, the giant was joyful. They shared adventures, and had a terrific time, chasing goats, or whatever it is that mountain giants do. But always she returned to the lowlands.”

Clara smiled, but said nothing, unwilling to break the spell.

"The giant, being an oddly masculine, but still approachable giant, would hide his tears, and they turned to rubies in the night sky. So they went on, the giant and his friend. He was always afraid that one day she wouldn’t return to him.”

“Didn’t he ever ask her to stay, this lonely, hansom giant?”

“Did I say he was lonely and hansom?”

“Let’s assume he was,” Clara said, squeezing his arm a little. 

A tension filled him, as if he was preparing to move, and again she wondered if he would slip his arm around her shoulder, but he remained stubbornly still.

“Well, this hansom, lonely giant had a great fear. That one day he would arrive at her village in the valley, and she’d be gone. That perhaps she would find a love in the lowlands, and marry, or that she would simply become tired of their adventures.”

“Oh, I doubt she’d do that. Beside, didn’t the giant ever ask her if she'd stay with him?”

The Doctor shook his head, as a single glow-fly, separated from its friends, buzzing about the TARDIS door, before darting back into the darkness.

“Well, you see, this giant was very foolish. He thought about asking her to stay many times, but couldn’t summon the courage.”

“That’s tragic,” Clara said lightly, her heart skipping a little. “She might very well have said yes.”

“Ah, that’s the thing. He left it too long. One day it was too late. She was gone, and the ruby tears shattered into dust. That’s why the sky's awash with colour. The giant’s tears. His hearts broke.”

“He had two hearts, did he, this giant?” Clara said, light as air.

“His _heart_ broke,” he Doctor corrected. 

The last of the light was fading, and night sounds crept up from the desert. The click-clacking of insects, the light buzz of the glow-flies, and Clara fancied, her heart pounding, and the Doctor’s breath, slow and regular beside her. 

They lapsed into a heavy silence, words forming and fading on her tongue, until finally she asked, “Did he...did he love her? The mountain giant?”

He didn’t answer, for the longest time, until Clara wondered if she’d spoken at all. Did she just imagine the words?

In a soft whisper, he replied at last. “With both his hearts. But he was afraid she didn’t feel the same way. After all, he was a...grumpy mountain giant, and she...she was the bravest, smartest valley giant he’d ever met." He looked away, far into the distance, and then he added shyly,  "And she was beautiful. Sometimes he pretended he didn't notice. But he always did.”

He was so near. Clara’s heart pounded so hard it almost hurt. He turned to face her, and his gaze was a live thing, boring into her, pleading. She’d never seen him look so vulnerable. 

“He should ask,” she finally whispered. "If he loves her, he should ask." 

His eyes roved around her face, seeking what, absolution? Courage?

Clara let her hand run down his black sleeve, until her palm slipped onto the back of his hand. As their skin met, warm and sweet, he took a sharp breath. In the distance, the last flush of light faded behind the great mountain, and he seemed to come to a decision. 

He turned his hand over and twined their fingers together. “Would you? Stay with me?” 

Clara leaned into him, his scent, the slight air of spice and adventure, and his otherness, drawing her in until he filled her world with bursting hope, singing in her heart. Flushed, she moved closer, until feather-light, she brushed her lips to his.

“Yes,” she said. “I’ll stay with you. We can’t have a broken hearted mountain giant, after all.” 

He kissed her again, eager now, pressing her closer. The first moon rose beyond the hulking shadow-mountains, and bathed the night in a red glow.

***

Later, as they lay curled together, bodies entwined, slowly surfacing from a shattering moment of oblivion, Clara asked him if the legend of the mountain giant was real.

He laughed, running his hand lazily over her bare spine. “Some people argue it’s the high proption of iron in the atmosphere, heavy elements scattered by a twin super novae and attracted by the local gravity well. But I like the story of the lonely, hansom giant better.”

“So do I,” she said, dreamily. This felt right. _He_ felt right, more like home than her flat had felt for the longest time. This is where she belonged, in the TARDIS, with her mountian giant. "We’re all stories in the end, I suppose." She breathed him in and kissed him again. "Let's make ours a good one.’


End file.
